studied the Japs so long you’re practically one yourself。 Do you think they’ll ever accept
unconditional surrender？ They’ve got to know that they’re losing the war。”
“Losing face is worse than death。 They won’t – can’t – accept unconditional surrender。 It would
be racial suicide。 But in Juarez； I’ve heard rumors of peace feelers from Tokyo。”
“That’s all they are – rumors。 Stalin told the President that the Japanese overtures to Russia were
too vague to act on。”
“Russians have less to gain from peace than we do；” said Finn。
“Cynical soul； aren’t you？”
“So is Stalin。”
“And Truman is a realist。 After Pearl Harbor； the voters would have his nuts if he gave the Japs
an easy peace。” Groves knuckled his eyes。 The skin around them was slack； darkened by fatigue；
the same fatigue that had eroded his military posture。 Yet as he straightened； he again exuded a
sense of unswerving； almost fanatical purpose。 “It always comes down to the bomb。 So be it。”
Groves walked toward a building that had a sign in front of it stating：
G Division
Omega Site Gamma Building
POSITIVELY NO ADMITTANCE
The sign was small； plain； unobtrusive。 The building was new； almost raw。 The guard saluted
Groves； then looked from him to Finn。
“He’s clear； soldier；” said Groves。 “His name is Finn。”
“Yes； sir。”
The guard got out two small cardboard badges and wrote a name on each。 Inside each badge
was a strip of undeveloped film。
“Turn this in when you leave； sir。”
The guard clipped one cardboard square onto the General’s collar and one onto Finn’s。 When
they had moved beyond the hearing of the guard； Groves spoke quietly。
“I want you to appreciate just what you are guarding。 Words like rare and scarce don’t really
describe it。 Irreplacable comes close。 The guts of the bomb is about eight kilos of U…235。”
“Less than twenty…five pounds？” asked Finn。 “Is that all that you need to make a 20；000…ton
bang？”
“Yes； but we’re dealing with one of the rarest elements on earth；” said Groves。 “To get it； you
start with an ore called pitchblende。 There’s about an ounce of pure uranium in each tone of ore；
but that’s the least of the problem。 There are two kinds of uranium。 We only use one kind；
U…235。 We have to separate it from the U…238 atom by atom。 To get seven pounds of U…235； we
have to process half a ton of U…238。 It’s an engineering nightmare。”
Finn listened while his eyes checked off doors that were closed and open。 The smell of tension
was stronger here； enclosed by pale green corridors and rooms。 Then he realized that the smell
of tension was on his own body； too。
“We’re not separating uranium here；” said Groves。 “That’s done in Tennessee。 Here we just
assemble the bomb。”
“How does the separated uranium get from Tennessee to Los Alamos？”
“Convoy。 Well…guarded but discreet。 The fewer people who even suspect there’s something
valuable being shipped； the better I sleep。 We only get a few micrograms at a time； anyway。”
“How does the uranium get from here to Hunters Point？”
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“No。 No one knows that yet； not even the men who will take it there。 And I won’t tell anybody
else until they’re beyond Los Alamos and whatever goddamn Russian spies we haven’t caught
yet。”
Groves gestured Finn into a long； narrow room that overlooked a laboratory。 Between the
room and the lab was a lead…lined； chest…high wall topped by a row of leaded glass windows。
Every detail of the lab was outlined by cold light pouring down from ranks of fluorescent lamps。
“We can hear them；” said Groves； gesturing to a ceiling speaker； “but they can’t hear us。”
Inside the laboratory stood a container that resembled a nickel…plated milk can。 The top was off；
revealing a thick lead lining。
“See that can？” asked Groves。 “That’s what the uranium will be shipped in。 It will be welded to a
cabin floor of the Indianapolis。”
Finn looked at the cylinder。 It was about eighteen inches in diameter and about two feet high。
The top had a curved metal handle like the lid of a garbage can。 The container did not look big
enough to hold the future of the world。
Finn looked beyond the can。 There were only three men in the laboratory。 Two of them were
seated at a table against the far wall； apparently taking notes。 They had the look of men who had
been up all night。 The third man looked equally tired。 He was seated on a high stool near the
center of the room。 In front of him was a table。 On the table was a black metal box with dials；
meters and what looked like a long narrow microphone attached by a cord to the box。
The table also held a glass…walled container that looked like an ordinary aquarium turned on end。
At the bottom of the container； in about three feet of water； was a lump of white metal。 A
smaller piece of the same metal was suspended above the water from a tripod that straddled the
aquarium。
“Those two pieces are all the pure uranium…235 in the world；” said Groves。
Finn looked at the metal。 He could have held both pieces in his hands at once。 They did not look
powerful enough to blow up the room； much less Japan。
“How tricky is uranium to handle？ Is it like nitroglycerin？”
“No。 It won’t explode if you drop it。 Uranium is more subtle。 It’s radioactive； which means it
naturally gives off high…energy particles。 A few of those panicles won’t hurt you。 Too many will
kill you。 But so long as you keep those two chunks of uranium apart； they’re about as dangerous
as cookies and milk。”
“Now；” continued Groves； “the closer together the pieces； the more energy they give off； and
the more dangerous they are。 If you set those chunks down next to each other you’ll get lots of
radiation； some heat and a little light。 Deadly as hell； but no explosion。 But if you slammed that
U…235 together quickly； with an explosive charge； the atoms would radiate their particles all at
once； literally blowing themselves apart。 That gives you one hell of a bang。 Those eight kilos of
U…235 are the explosive equivalent of forty million pounds of TNT。”
Finn looked at the gleaming metal and found such power hard to believe。
The experimenter on the stool flipped a switch on the unmarked box near the aquarium。
Immediately there was a distant crackling sound； like slow static。 He called out a reading to the
men at the far side of the room。
“Same as before；” verified one of the men。
“What are they doing？” asked Finn。
“The aquarium holds salt water。 If the Indianapolis goes down； we want to know how a dip in
the ocean will affect critical mass and chain reactions。”
The experimenter fiddled with the pulley that controlled the U…235 suspended over the
aquarium。 The pulley gears were stuck； the result of too much water dripped onto them during a
night of experimentation。
“The larger piece of U…235 is at the bottom of the pond；” said Groves。 “It’s about three times as
big as the piece hanging from the pulley。 The two pieces are made to fit together like a baseball
in a glove。”
Page 20
The U…235 was attached to a pulley hook by a hastily rigged net。 The experimenter unhooked the
net from the pulley； set aside the uranium； and cranked on the pulley impatiently。 Without the
weight of the metal dragging down； the pulley worked fairly well。
Groves glanced at the experimenter and the two other men slumped on stools at the far end of
the room。 In spite of their obvious fatigue； there was an air of anxiety about them。 The
experimenter reattached the U…235 to the pulley。
“It’s their last chance to work with the metal before it’s shipped。 No one has ever had this much
U…235 before。 There are lots of theories to test and damn little time to do it in。”
The pulley stuck。 The experimenter swore。
“Six twenty…five；” said one of the men at the back of the room。
The experimenter said nothing。 He applied more pressure to the pulley。 The net holding the
U…235 descended a few inches。 The sound of static increased。
“What’s that？” asked Finn。 “What is he doing？”
“The box is giving out the static；” said Groves。 “It’s a radiation counter。 It tells us how many
particles are being radiated。 Remember； the closer the two pieces； the more particles are
knocked off。 The more particles； the more danger。”
The man on the stool adjusted the radiation counter until the sound of static was reduced to a
series of slow clicks。 He turned the crank on the pulley。 The net holding the U…235 descended
two inches closer to its companion。 Instantly the clicking sound increased。 The man stopped；
made a note on his pad； read the notation aloud； and then readjusted the radiation counter。 He
turned the crank again。 It stuck。 One of the men in the back of the room groaned。
“Goddamn it； not again！”
The experimenter ignored the complaint。 He pressed and jiggled until the pulley gears came
unstuck and the isotope descended。 The counter snarled。 He readjusted it； calling out numbers。
“Every time he adjusts the radiation counter；” said Groves； “he decreases its sensitivity。
Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to measure anything beyond mild radioactivity without
overloading the machine。”
The scientist turned the crank。 It balked； then responded。 The U…235 dropped closer to the
larger piece of metal at the bottom of the aquarium。 Clicking sounds blurred into a low howl。
“Radiation is like a germ；” Groves muttered。 “You can’t see it but it can hurt you。”
The rapid signal of the counter reminded Finn of a rattlesnake’s warning； except that the
counter’s sound had a mechanical perfection that no animate life could attain。 The difference was
subtle and pervasive； it made Finn uneasy。 He understood dangerous snakes and dangerous
men； but the invisible danger of radiation was alien to him。
There was an abnormal intensity to the experimenter’s actions as he worked with the reluctant
pulley and measured the shrinking distance between the two pieces of U…238 – and between
himself and a lethal unknown。
“How much radiation can a man take？” asked Finn； not looking away from the table where the
two pieces of metal communicated with each other in a series of ascending clicks。
“We don’t know。”
“Then how do you know if you’ve gotten too much？”
“Skin lesions form that look like burns。 Bruises form。 Nausea。 Vomiting。 Diarrhea。 Hair loss。
Fever。 Bad fever。”
“Is too much radiation fatal？”
“Yes。”
“How long does it take？”
Silence。 Then； reluctantly。 “There have been accidents。 Only one death； thank God。 It took four
days。”
“But it could be slower？ Or faster？”
“Probably； depending on the man and the dosage。 We just don’t know。 No guarantees； Captain。
Not one。”
Page 21
Finn stood without moving； measuring the increasing tension as the experimenter adjusted the
radiation counter again； causing the buzz to slow into separate clicks。 The man gingerly moved
the pulley handle； made notes； called out numbers； and eased the small piece of U…238 closer to
its mate at the bottom of the aquarium。
The counter came alive again with a low buzzing sound。 Tension coiled invisibly around the
experimenter； jjut his voice was steady as he read off a series of numbers for his colleagues at the
back of the lab。 His words issued from the ceiling speaker grille like a disembod